Silver Wings
by KewlkatLove
Summary: "Where the sun doesn't shine there is darkness." A fact. Not a metaphor. Well, that's how team Scorpion saw it until they meet old "friends" of Walter; two young geniuses that hold no significance in his life. That is, until they reappear. And, for the two unsociably devilish twins that they were, how much they've changed is surprising. But maybe that's because they need his help.
1. Help

Scanning the roads ahead of me, I desperately searched for that single metaphorical golden arch; that single garage door that seemed to have not been touched in years. That dirty alley ironically being the holding pen of my savior(s). Yes, many avoid it because they think it is society's prison for the _unfortunate_.

But I knew better.

With this plastic case, clutched between my frozen fists, I would get what I wanted. No, not what I wanted, what I _needed_, for I was missing my other half. With no idea of where to turn, I could only hope and pray that the residents of the warehouse would be willing to aid my search.

To many in this era of the night, it is undesirable to have someone knock on your door, much less for those to open it for, for whoever would be out at such an hour, would be undeniably bad news. But I doubt it would matter to those whom I wanted to see.

My mind, much like theirs, runs fastest and more freely at this time. It is inexplicable why or how this works, surprisingly, but it just simply does. Already, I could feel my attention-span thinning as I saw all that was happening around me.

I had to hurry. With my highly trained mind and untrained body, I began at a jog, as most would call it. But, it was a light run to me, only _slightly_ slower than I was capable of. I began to feel my lungs shout in displeasure, but I marched onward as the memories flew back into my head, recognizing the area finally.

Walter O'Brien.

Not my favorite person. Not at all. In fact, I can hardly stand being in the same room as the pompous arse. But he could, and probably will, help on the matter, for he may claim to be low in EQ and high with the IQ, but my sister has a way of making people forget their so called principles.

That's why he would help me find her.

My fraternal twin sister, Hazel, and I, Knox, are indeed considered a part of intellectually elite; separately, we each hold an exceptionally high 185 and 186 in our IQ scores, mine being the highest, and together, as an experiment, we acquired the score of an 217 on the entire ordeal, exactly twenty points higher than our boastful… Walter?

I shook my head as if to get it all out; too many numbers in addition to the ones already inserted within my brain tissue all on one occasion, they're even beginning to invade my nerves.

…Sorry, that lame attempt was a joke.

My sister, however high her score may be, excels in the physical department, even when visualizing the physical components of an entity. She's incredible. While I excel with numbers, calculations, and precise apparatus, she's out doing things with her hands, studying the physical form of the world and learning though experiences. It's a phenomenon how her head works, for mine is like that of any of the other genius, cold and closed off.

I paused, my mind a million miles away, and my body knowing exactly what to do to find the rusted out garage door. I glowered at the metal frame, unimpressed, much unlike the last time I was here. Back then, I found it infatuating how they had their own 'base' where only other 'geniuses' 'belonged'. Please take note of my sarcasm, for this place is a dump farther gone than you could imagine.

I raised my fist shakily, ready to knock. And then I froze right before I made contact, what if he won't help me? I felt my heart clench, what if he doesn't care?

Gosh, not having Hazel here is really getting to me. I'm actually second-guessing myself for God's sake!

I leaned my weight forwards, making sure my hand made solid contact despite my mild trembling.

There was a moment that the mild chatter inside grew in volume, to the point that I think that I may have startled someone, and then there was silence. After a minute, of which I patiently counted each second, I dared to raise my voice, praying this was the right place.

"W-Walter?" I grumbled curses as my voice cracked. "I'm looking for Walter O'Brian." I paused, contemplating this next statement. "I need his help."

At that, I swear the tense air disappeared. I stepped back as the door creaked and, unlike what I expected, a side door opened.

"Who-?" The familiar tan face and curly locks appeared, at first looking serious and then dropping in slight horror mixed with surprise. "Knox? Why- I mean, what are you doing here? I thought I was a 'blasted big head that wouldn't know the definition of modest if it bit him in the arse'?"

"I never said you weren't." I muttered. "But I have a bigger problem. And you're the only person I can turn to."

He stared at me for a second more, a contemplating look on his face. It was almost as if he doubted me.

"Where is Hazel?" He questioned, as if her presence would make him relax.

"Actually," I hooked my hand on the back of my neck, looking down at my shoes, "that's why I'm here. She-"

"Who is it, Walter?" A voice in the background asked quizzically.

He scrunched up his eyebrows in thought, as if he was debating with himself. But, before the resolution reached his face, he called out behind him. "An old friend." He sighed after that and waved a hand at me. "Alright, let's see what we can do."

I widened my eyes in slight surprise at his quick decision; I thought for sure that I would have to have a verbal smack down with him. I even prepared a few good ones.

"Are we really old friends?" I asked with amusement thick in my voice as we entered the building.

"Hell no." He grinned slightly.

I felt my chest swell slightly, from pride, satisfaction, or both, I am not entirely sure.

But I was going to find my sister.

* * *

"Who's the kid?" A woman with an Asian look asked. She was wiping her hands on a cloth, as if she had been working on a vehicle.

"He's Seventeen, and he's an old acquaintance." Walter answered indifferently.

"I thought he was an old friend?" A skinny man leaned on the banister from the top of the stairs.

"Semantics. Anyways, kid, what's your deal?" The woman addressed me this time.

"What do you mean?" I cocked my head.

"He's not a very bright one is he?" She asked as she leaned against the door frame.

"He's analytical. Look at how slow his pupils move and the way his lips twitch each time one of us speaks." The man at the banister evaluated.

"His IQ is higher than both of yours and, with his sister, he outranks me by twenty points." Walter informed, continuing on to the back of the building.

"Whoa. So what's your name, kid?" The woman looked at me once again, her eyes a bit wider and her lips a bit grimmer, as compared to the light scowl she held earlier.

"Knox Rhode." I stated calmly.

"That's Happy," The guy at the banister pointed and then shifted to point to himself, "and I'm Toby."

I looked at the two of them, instantly seeing what they were prodigal at. I softened my features when I saw Walter's figure alleviate when he heard their comfort with a complete stranger in their home.

He had finally found something to care about, a family.

And now it's time to find mine.

I felt my features go stiff as I handed him the disk. "I think this will help."

"You mind if I recruit my team for this?" He asked, not turning to face me as he fiddled with the computer.

"You'll keep them fully informed either way. So why bother asking permission?" I closed my eyes as I waved to him.

However, before he could call out to them or retrieve them himself, an unfamiliar lady walked in.

"What are you skulking around for?" She immediately asked, but as her eyes met mine, she stopped. "Oh, hello there. I'm Paige."

"Knox. It's a pleasure to meet you." I greeted politely as she offered me her hand, which I shook firmly. From the obvious signs of social behavior, I took it that she wasn't a genius.

"Paige, would you mind getting the others?" Walter asked, leaning over the computer as he worked.

I watched her back as she left. "You sure have mellowed out since the last time we saw eachother."

"You think so?" He said halfheartedly. "Does this thing carry any viruses?"

I assumed he was addressing me, so I answered. "When I went through it, it didn't seem to carry anything too foreign. But I think you should put up a safety wall just in case, the video _did_ originate from an unknown source."

"Video? As in single?" He turned to me his brows furrowed. "There are two videos."

Why is he bothering to ask me questions when he is going to do whatever he pleases either way? I scowled.

"Yeah. I put another on there as a reason for her to go missing."

"So a motive?" He inquired as he leaned against the wall.

"As I suspect, yes." I crossed my arms seriously, as if putting our past differences behind us.

But I knew he wouldn't drop it so easily.

Slowly, others began to file in; I instantly recognized Toby, Happy, and Paige, but there were two others that I had yet to meet. One stood proudly, suggesting a confidence that came with being a normally intelligent person, signifying another non-genius. And then, there was another, one who twitched anxiously and stared at me with a slightly horrified expression. Yeah, he was definitely ranked up there in the high IQ levels.

"What is the meaning of this, Walter?" The elder non-genius demanded, almost angrily.

But the 197 point IQ holder merely brushed it off with a quick mumble. The man seemed to hear what he said and looked on at us in mild irritation, particularly at me.

"Agent Gallo, why don't you introduce yourself to our guest?" Paige suggested, attempting to loosen the atmosphere.

I instantly understood the roles of those two; Paige was their world interpreter, hinted at by her delicate nature, and Agent Gallo was their government representative, as suggested from his title. I stuck my hand out in a handshake, only to receive an emotionless stare from the old geezer.

"Fine. Don't shake my hand." I grumbled as I turned towards the screen. "I didn't really want to either."

"Knox. Behave yourself." Walter scolded lightly, reminding me that this was not my place to be snobbish, as I was in his territory. He picked up the remote and pressed a button. "This is the first video." He paused and raised an eyebrow at it, then looked at me. "So, what exactly are we watching?"

I felt my chest clench for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. "The ransom video, it is a missing person after all, there usually is one."

"Who exactly is missing? And who are you?" Agent Gallo demanded, making me flinch slightly. But I quickly recovered, for it didn't seem as though it was directed at me personally, he just seems to be a forceful and blunt kind of man.

"Hazel Rhode, my sister, is missing." I sighed. "And, normally, it wouldn't be such a big deal, but it's because of _who _she is that makes this such an urgent matter." I glanced around slowly.

I sighed once again at their confused faces and placed a hand to my forehead as I began racking my brain for the quick version of how to explain it all.

"My name is Knox Rhode, my sister, Hazel Rhode. When we were fourteen, we took our first IQ tests. We each scored with high 180's. When we took the test together, as an experiment on our brain types, we scored 217. Therefore, as the minors we were, and are, we became a part of the government's property. As weapons, were caged off from the world so that our minds could remain 'unscathed' and be 'utilized'." I paused and muttered bitterly after a quick thought, "But we won't be for too much longer."

"She is a further use to them, because her mind works adeptly in the physical world. She's different; clever, sneaky, devious. While she is special, I am like any other socially-awkward genius. Really, they only need her. Recently, Hazel developed her own variety of weapons when, suddenly, a dispute broke out regarding who would take ownership of the advanced arsenal." I paused, swallowing as I got to the confusing part. "So she bolted. It was an awful night, she didn't tell anyone, not even me, that she was leaving. But I guess that is my own fault, for I took note of her behaving more aggressively, yet I didn't question her, console her. The results of her escape were exceedingly bloody; a report of twelve guards killed along with seven other casualties. And then, after she had cleared the soil, another group got ahold of her, and that was when this video came in. I was released a few days ago, in hopes that I would be able to track her down." I heaved a deep sigh and looked up at each of them.

All of them were staring at me, some even in shock.

I looked at Walter. "Did I drivel on again?"

"No, not too terribly anyway, I just think you gave them too much all at once." He crossed his arms a ghost of a grin on his features. "What kind of weapons?"

"Second video is the demo of them. She's the only one who can wield them though." I gestured to the big screen as I smirked at the thought of someone else wielding those ridiculous things.

"Let's watch that first. I think the guys need a little bit more to grasp exactly what is going on."

I cracked a grin at his lame attempt to calm my buzzing nerves.

"Agreed."

* * *

**Alrighty! I put my heart and soul into this!**

**So please enjoy!**

**Review and Favorite and I shall update ASAP!**

**(Depends if someone reminds me to. Cuz I'll type all of this up and then never post... Stupid, am I right?)**


	2. Information

The video began with a distant view of a girl, identical to Knox, but… girlier. She had deep chocolate brown eyes that held a fascination and, commonly confused for anger, determination. Her short, pin straight locks seemed to rise like the hackles of a dog as her anticipation built. And the freckles that dusted the tops of her cheeks did nothing to make her cute, for, in fact, they made her look even more intimidating. Her long, lean body clung to a blood red device about the size of a small dog.

An abrupt yell escaped her lips and her body began twisting slowly. And then there was a SNAP as her arm shot out with the red object. A pole was now extended from her arm and a gigantic blade hung off of the end with a mess of red mechanisms clinging all down the staff.

A scythe.

Her hips twisted slightly and then she was off; twisting and throwing the scythe around as if it was an extension of herself. She snapped and spun and looked exceedingly lethal as she swung the blade around in steady routine.

Suddenly she jolted to a stop. Lying on the handle with the blade jammed into the ground.

The people in the room watching paused, curiously amazed.

When the girl reached down and pulled a bar on the handle, everyone jumped as a gunshot sounded and echoed.

She then calmly got off of the weapon and glared at the camera.

"No, Hazel. We were just-"

"Shut up." She glowered as she pulled the weapon out of the ground with a single arm. "I know what you were doing."

She then pointed the blade at the camera and jammed it into the floor, where the mechanism jerked.

And then the screen went black.

* * *

"Well, I'm sure we all soiled our pants a bit there. Shall I crack open a bottle?" Toby's voice cracked into the silence, a humorous tinge peeping out.

I scowled at him, for we needed to be serious about this.

But Walter beat me to it. "To what is the variety to these artillery types, and how many of each is there?"

"There were six different types, and one of each. As for their locations, I have one of them with me now, she disposed of three before she left, destroying them beyond recognition, and the rest she took off with. At the time, it didn't make much sense, but I think she destroyed them because she was worried, worried that someone wanted them. I won't disagree with her decision though. I think it was extremely wise if compared to her current situation. So that would leave two as the remainders. The most logical decision from her would be to keep the two she wields best by her side, and that would lead me to deduce that she has the scythe and hammer."

"The hammer?" The remaining unnamed genius exclaimed, nervously fiddling with his hands.

"Yeah. It folds up to be super tiny, but is perhaps the most difficult to wield. I don't understand it all myself but I know it worked in a gruesome way."

"I'm not sure I want to meet this sister of yours." Agent Gallo stated matter-of-factly.

"I do." Happy jumped in, a grin on her face.

It must be woman thing.

"To be completely honest," Walter began, addressing his crew, "she's easier to get along with than him." He then gestured to me.

I knew he would find a way to poke back at me.

"Anyway," I emphasized, shooting him a glare out of the corner of my eye, "getting back to the point, she did give me one of the weapons. The only one I could actually hold without killing myself with," I paused and cocked my head, "or anyone else for that matter."

I rustled through the small black backpack that I carried everywhere and grasped the hard silver bar that almost looked like a dumbbell and shook it fiercely out to the side. The mechanisms on the end extended to be about a foot in length and then connected, via a very sharp blade. I moved my arm up and squeezed the precise pressure points. A cord with the blade as an arrowhead then shot out and hooked deep into the wall.

"You're joking." Paige deadpanned.

"I wish." I grinned. "I have a pretty twisted sister." I retracted the weapon back into its compact form and placed it at my belt calmly. "Walter, would you show the other video? It's the ransom one."

Walter's amused face was gone and replaced by a serious one and I felt the air take form of a grave one.

It almost made me smile.

Almost.

* * *

The screen shifted from black to that of a close-up. A close-up of the girl previously identified as Hazel Rhode. She had been restrained to a chair with dirt, sweat, and blood coated on her face.

She didn't look scared.

She didn't look at all like a hostage.

"This was live." Another observed from the other side of the screen to the room full of geniuses.

"Clearly." The girl's brother remarked. Though few actually understood what they meant.

A deep voice from behind the screen began to speak, sounding like a programmed computer modulation.

But it had barely begun its second sentence beyond a mock-greeting when the girl on screen parted her cracked lips and began speaking in a crystal clear voice, no hint of a waver shown anywhere beyond her glazed over eyes.

"Name Hazel Rhode: Date Tuesday, about noon, October 17, 2014: Location unknown: Climate warm for so late in the season: Men walking around with darker skin and hair: Wet footprints left behind by boots: No particular smells other than forestry: Cheap camera, a 2000 Model D-"

Instantly a fist entered the screen and contacted face, effectively knocking her out of the picture.

Her brother shifted, his anger evident to everyone, even beyond the human behaviorist.

"This bitch needs to learn place. I want weapons or we kill." A heavily accented voice spoke angrily, giving up on the computerized voice.

"You sure are dense." Hazel's voice broke in, a cold laugh following suit. "Why do you think you caught me so simply? They don't have the weapons. I ran from them, it's tyrannical. They wanted the weapons too. Strip me bare, you'll see that I don't have them." She lied, for her brother knew of their compacted forms, but she showed no hints of her deceit and continued with her mockery. "And, if you kill me, not only will you lack the means to get the reward, but you will also be considered criminals. The police have already heard your voice and I've given up your location. You might as well be counted as caught. But I do wish you the best of luck, for I've finally met someone far more stupid than the fools that run our country."

CRACK!

Everyone in the room jumped, immediately anxious.

"Damn." The familiar voice rang, smoke clearing from the camera's view, revealing a now unbound Hazel. She quickly disappeared from view, and then there were then grunts of pain from some men.

"God, what is all of this-?" Her voice instantly turned into a grunt, where a thud soon sounded.

And then the camera went black.

* * *

**And there is Hazel! **

***Sigh* Have any of you ever read Maximum Ride?**

**I find myself think of it as I type up Hazel.**

**I know this is nowhere NEAR as great, but still, it's in my thought process.**

**Weird, eh?**

**I could give you a hundred guesses and you would never understand how warped this story is becomming. (The parts I haven't posted.)**

**Enjoy my crazy!**


	3. Hazel's Story

"Well, I'm sure we all soiled our pants a bit there. Shall I crack open a bottle?" Toby's voice cracked into the silence, a humorous tinge peeping out.

I scowled at him, for we needed to be serious about this.

But Walter beat me to it. "To what is the variety to these artillery types, and how many of each is there?"

"There were six different types, and one of each. As for their locations, I have one of them with me now, she disposed of three before she left, destroying them beyond recognition, and the rest she took off with. At the time, it didn't make much sense, but I think she destroyed them because she was worried, worried that someone wanted them. I won't disagree with her decision though. I think it was extremely wise if compared to her current situation. So that would leave two as the remainders. The most logical decision from her would be to keep the two she wields best by her side, and that would lead me to deduce that she has the scythe and hammer."

"The hammer?" The remaining unnamed genius exclaimed, nervously fiddling with his hands.

"Yeah. It folds up to be super tiny, but is perhaps the most difficult to wield. I don't understand it all myself but I know it worked in a gruesome way."

"I'm not sure I want to meet this sister of yours." Agent Gallo stated matter-of-factly.

"I do." Happy jumped in, a grin on her face.

It must be woman thing.

"To be completely honest," Walter began, addressing his crew, "she's easier to get along with than him." He then gestured to me.

I knew he would find a way to poke back at me.

"Anyway," I emphasized, shooting him a glare out of the corner of my eye, "getting back to the point, she did give me one of the weapons. The only one I could actually hold without killing myself with," I paused and cocked my head, "or anyone else for that matter."

I rustled through the small black backpack that I carried everywhere and grasped the hard silver bar that almost looked like a dumbbell and shook it fiercely out to the side. The mechanisms on the end extended to be about a foot in length and then connected, via a very sharp blade. I moved my arm up and squeezed the precise pressure points. A cord with the blade as an arrowhead then shot out and hooked deep into the wall.

"You're joking." Paige deadpanned.

"I wish." I grinned. "I have a pretty twisted sister." I retracted the weapon back into its compact form and placed it at my belt calmly. "Walter, would you show the other video? It's the ransom one."

Walter's amused face was gone and replaced by a serious one and I felt the air take form of a grave one.

It almost made me smile.

Almost.

* * *

The screen shifted from black to that of a close-up. A close-up of the girl previously identified as Hazel Rhode. She had been restrained to a chair with dirt, sweat, and blood coated on her face.

She didn't look scared.

She didn't look at all like a hostage.

"This was live." Another observed from the other side of the screen to the room full of geniuses.

"Clearly." The girl's brother remarked. Though few actually understood what they meant.

A deep voice from behind the screen began to speak, sounding like a programmed computer modulation.

But it had barely begun its second sentence beyond a mock-greeting when the girl on screen parted her cracked lips and began speaking in a crystal clear voice, no hint of a waver shown anywhere beyond her glazed over eyes.

"Name Hazel Rhode: Date Tuesday, about noon, October 17, 2014: Location unknown: Climate warm for so late in the season: Men walking around with darker skin and hair: Wet footprints left behind by boots: No particular smells other than forestry: Cheap camera, a 2000 Model D-"

Instantly a fist entered the screen and contacted face, effectively knocking her out of the picture.

Her brother shifted, his anger evident to everyone, even beyond the human behaviorist.

"This bitch needs to learn place. I want weapons or we kill." A heavily accented voice spoke angrily, giving up on the computerized voice.

"You sure are dense." Hazel's voice broke in, a cold laugh following suit. "Why do you think you caught me so simply? They don't have the weapons. I ran from them, it's tyrannical. They wanted the weapons too. Strip me bare, you'll see that I don't have them." She lied, for her brother knew of their compacted forms, but she showed no hints of her deceit and continued with her mockery. "And, if you kill me, not only will you lack the means to get the reward, but you will also be considered criminals. The police have already heard your voice and I've given up your location. You might as well be counted as caught. But I do wish you the best of luck, for I've finally met someone far more stupid than the fools that run our country."

CRACK!

Everyone in the room jumped, immediately anxious.

"Damn." The familiar voice rang, smoke clearing from the camera's view, revealing a now unbound Hazel. She quickly disappeared from view, and then there were then grunts of pain from some men.

"God, what is all of this-?" Her voice instantly turned into a grunt, where a thud soon sounded.

And then the camera went black.

* * *

"Hello? Miss?" A sickening voice played over my ear, cold fingers ghosting over my face. "Oh please don't tell me they put a dead body in here with me."

I cracked my eyes slightly, only to slam them shut once again because of the brightness of my surroundings. "Aw man. What hit me? I feel like it was a car. Was it a car?" I rubbed the back of my head as I sat up.

Hold on.

I wasn't restrained.

I threw my eyes open abruptly once again. This time, however, I strained them to remain open.

Even though my eyes were of no help, I made out my surroundings to be that of a lab, as revealed by the pristine smells.

I looked down at my shivering form to notice that my 'battle' clothes were gone and I was wearing a plain, thin, white gown. I also felt oddly clean. I glanced around at the white prison bars surrounding me. It was as if I was an animal in a cage, prepared to be experimented on.

It was then that I realized there was another with me. I slowly turned my head to look at him; despite my eyes being difficult, I was able to make out a crouched form in the corner of the massive cage I was in. I also managed to make out something that wasn't quite right about the human-shaped form. Though my eyes did not focus anytime soon, I managed to make out two pieces of sheet metal sticking out where his shoulder blades belonged.

"Are you alright?" His voice rang out, a little too loud for my liking.

I flinched.

The form shifted, and I felt the air of confidence hit him. Yet he still stuttered. "I-I'm sorry. I'm normally soft spoken, but I guess I spoke a bit loudly there." He muttered awfully high in volume once again.

I watched him shift to face me, my vision finally beginning to bother me. But I felt my heart clench as I finally realized what was so wrong with him, what those pieces of 'sheet metal' were.

They were wings.

"Ah. I'm sorry Miss!" His voice instantly went lower as he put his hands in front of him when he whispered. "I didn't realize you were also a specimen."

"W-what do you mean?" I felt my heart rise into my throat as I finally realized that my vision wasn't getting any better, in fact, it had gotten worse. I could hardly see at all.

"You don't know? Why, you're the first Sensory-Specimen to actually survive!" He paused, sidling closer to my smaller frame. "Wow. You really didn't know." He paused, and I saw something move to his face. His nature suggested that he was nibbling his fingertip in a nervous tick. "They experiment on us, attempting to make us better. In my case, it was physical attributes. For you, it was more nervous system work. They remodeled your senses." He finished; his eyes so wide that I could actually see them a bit, despite my bad vision.

"Oh dear God, tell me it isn't so." I pulled my hands from the ground and put them to my eyes.

"Why? What's wrong?" He asked, his voice hitting a deeper pitch, suggesting he was my age.

_Damnit Brain! Quit analyzing for a second! I can't think!_

I grabbed at my hair, squeezing my eyes shut, my EQ actually overtaking my IQ. Once again, my head wouldn't allow me to process what I wanted it to. I began thinking of the possible explanations to my current state as opposed to the benefit of escaping.

My caged partner, who knows not of my dislike for physical contact, rested his hand on my shoulder. Instantly, I snapped all gears into motion, ready to snap his head off in a fit of frustrated rage. "W-what are you doing?" My voice creeped out, sounding fearful.

I bit my tongue fiercely in embarrassment.

"You seemed lost in thought. Are you okay?" His light voice rang loudly.

You know what? He didn't need to know! I began plotting how to brush him off, of making my intentions clear… when I realized that I had already said something.

"You can't see?!" He cried loudly once again, getting close up to my face.

I instantly took notice of the scars that his shaggy hair hid for the most part along the side of his face; they were old scars, long healed, meaning he had been here for an extensive time period. Heck, he could have possibly been here all his life.

I wonder if I have any scars like his.

No! Now is not the time to worry about your looks! I _need _to get to get the Hell outta here!

_But you can't see. _A voice in the back of my head reminded me. I had known as much but, I hadn't fully processed what effect it would have on my escape.

So I decided to do what my subconscious wanted me to, I began in the long, painful road to conversation.

"No. I can't see." I paused, thinking about this. "You said that you're typically soft spoken, correct?"

"Yeah, my vocal cords are narrow and damaged. So I'm incapable of sounds above a certain tone." He stated, lookingslightly like a deflated balloon.

"Well, I'm hearing you _loud _and clear." I tapped my chin in thought. "So that takes of my hearing, and I'll bet the rest of my senses were a success as well-"

"DEAR!" A _loud_, blunt voice instantly broke my analytical nature. I jumped out of my skin and leaned back, as if to get away from the deafening sound.

I spun my head to reveal the culprit. It was an old, stout man who looked so unkempt in a frenzy that the only option was that he was a genius.

"I AM SO GLAD YOU ARE AWAKE!" He extended his hand through the bars, as if to shake my hand. "WHEN MY SON TOLD ME THAT HE HAD ONE OF THE RHODE CHILDREN I WAS SO EXTACTIC!"

I slammed my hands over my ears unable to take it anymore. After a few seconds, there was a light tap on my hand from the boy, as if it was signaling that I was to remove them from my ears.

I unwillingly complied, cautious all the way.

"Sorry dear. I forgot entirely about the sensitivity to a new specimen. Do you like my work?" His voice came out in a loud hoarse tone, suggesting that he was whispering.

"Who are you?" I answered his question with another question, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"AH!" He cried out in an excited scream once again, making me recoil. "Sorry. Anyways, why don't I explain to you, from the beginning, what exactly is happening?" I could sense his childlike grin, just by understanding his nature. "Well, America has foreign contacts, as well as foreign terrorists, right? Well, we are one of those foreign contacts, and we are Hell-bent on catching one of those terrorist groups in particular. A common enemy, if you will. We are an organization so large and secretive, that only those in high places know of us; such as the American President. He has us recruited to break down the Triple Terrors." The man paused, and I could feel his sheepish grin. "We are a large organization with many different branches, and the Triple Terrors are bits of each of the branches that broke off. We are currently made up of three groups as well; the Warriors, the Hackers, and the Scientists basically."

He paused for a long while.

"As for your current situation, we reprimanded a break off of the Triple Terrors. Unfortunately, it was only a group of duller lads, not any of the bigger threats. And you just happened to be there as a hostage. Normally, the hostage is shot dead or turned loose into the woods for the wolves to hunt, but my son recognized you and stopped them from killing you. You see, a long time ago I came across some files that I guess were supposed to be on lockdown in the utmost secrecy. They were about those with exceptionally high IQs. And the youngest pair managed to catch my eye; for one, they were twins, another, their score of the test combined was incredible. I was pent up in the hacker division for the longest time, shouting over their shoulders to find me as much as possible on theses miraculous twins. Of course, those in the room didn't understand the significance, so I was the only one that really cared. But, you two created some of the most basically incredible theories that left me, a genius on the human system, to take to a whole new level with very little effort."

I felt myself beginning to understand this man as my mind flashed back to the files. Files that I, in particular, set up. What extreme irony that they would come back to bite me in the ass so soon.

"So I perfected the theorem. The cerebral nervous system work you two put together was incredible, who would have thought that a complex enhancement formula combined with the internal enzymes would create such superior senses? Oh, I'm sorry, you probably don't quite get what I am rambling on about quite yet. But, do you know how a blind man has his other senses specialized and specified? Well, if I add my own breed of enhancers along with energy altering enzymes, I could make it where your senses developed twice as fast and a thousand times as strong. So I shut down your vision internally, giving your brain the time and necessities it needs to develop. And here is a vial that will shut your visual nervous system back on when the time comes and, beside of it, there are another set of enhancers that will combine with your visual cortex hormones to make your vision greater than that of a hawk, by a minor percent of course, but still better nonetheless. But, the downside to this is that, once I restore your vision, it'll take about a week to stabilize. I apologize for the delay, but there is a strict guarantee that it'll work, and this is a requirement for it to be a success. You won't believe how many experiments I've had these past few years, I've had plenty of practice to make this work." He paused, his voice growing even lower, as if he was talking to himself. "It's perfection."

"Why would you do this to me?" I nearly cried out.

I felt it in the air, the way his lips moved as he racked his brain for the indefinite solution. "Well, I assumed with your physical capabilities, this would complete you as the perfect weapon."

That snapped something inside of me. I jolted to a stand and firmly walked up to the bars, slow enough to assure that I wouldn't trip or screw up my footing, but quick enough to slam into the bars with my fists. I grabbed the bars tightly, my knuckles burning as I imagined them going white. I focused my eyes and glared into the empty space.

"_I am no weapon._" I hissed in a voice that was not mine. "Those were theories! Theorems! I never wanted them to become a reality! This is screwed up you bastard!" I screamed with my rage revealed at all new levels. Levels that I never imagined possible.

Just as I was about to screech again, there was a hand on my shoulder, a reassuring hand that made my breath catch as I imagined a certain boy with brown locks and features identical to my own. I shrugged the hand off violently, and backed into the shadowed corner, my eyes wide, as if hoping that this was unreal and they would focus. Just as the tears began to break through my non-seeing eyes, I stumbled backwards and landed on my butt in the corner.

I stared at the two figures at the far end away from me, both holding a surprised air.

I didn't care, I was hurt more than they could have ever imagined. Not only was I only in an unfamiliar place without my eyes or my brother…

I was scared.

That never happens.

I sobbed harder, burying my face into my knees.

Knox.

It's your turn now to do the saving.


End file.
